


Turning Tricks

by bluedragoninamber



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: M/M, Master/Padawan, Obi-Wan is twenty-one, shameless contrived cliche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:40:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8058487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedragoninamber/pseuds/bluedragoninamber
Summary: Qui-Gon is being stubborn.  Obi-Wan decides to make him jealous.  It works.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Capurnia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capurnia/gifts).



** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

 ** AN ** **: This little story is for Capurnia as a thank you for her wonderful story “Ameratat.” If you haven’t read it, please go read it! It is incredible! This is my first attempt at writing this pairing, and the mature rating is for the subject matter and the language. The lemons are only implied. Obi-Wan is twenty-one in this story.**

            Qui-Gon Jinn was not a serene Jedi. Scratch that. At the moment, Qui-Gon was a decidedly furious Jedi. No one familiar with Qui-Gon would be surprised to learn that the target of his fury was the Jedi High Council. Nor would anyone be particularly surprised to learn who was the cause he championed…Obi-Wan Kenobi, shining beacon of Light and a perfect example of a Jedi to the Council.

            But for once, Obi-Wan was not at his master’s side. No, he was currently wearing far too little clothing for Qui-Gon’s comfort, turning tricks as a prostitute down in the bowels of Coruscant, undercover in hopes of breaking up a sex trafficking ring that had run afoul of a senator’s daughter. It was the senior padawan’s first independent mission, one which the Council had been relieved to approve. Obi-Wan had neglected to tell Qui-Gon of the nature of the mission. It was his right to withhold that information from his master…but now the Council was left to deal with Master Jinn who had just found out, by way of an overheard conversation, as to the true nature of his padawan’s mission.     

            “You’ve sent him off to sell his body for the sake of a spoiled senator! He’s hardly more than a boy! He deserves better than that!”

            Master Windu sighed. “Master Jinn, do I need to remind you that Senior Padawan Kenobi is twenty-one years old? That he has been an adult by Coruscant and Jedi law for a year? That, as a senior padawan, he is expected to begin to undertake independent missions in order to prepare him for his knighthood? And that these missions are also meant to teach the master that the padawan is no longer a dependent youngling?”

            Qui-Gon protested, “But he should have at least told me!”

            Mace Windu breathed deeply, reminding himself that Qui-Gon was his best friend and thus did not deserve to be snapped at.

            Mace gentled his tone. “Master Jinn, has it occurred to you that perhaps this is exactly why he didn’t tell you…because he knew you would be displeased and attempt to interfere? Has it occurred to you that perhaps the man that you insist on treating like a boy knows you as well as you know yourself?”

            For once, Qui-Gon Jinn could find nothing to say.

            “Well, if you insist on chewing him out, I can tell you now that Padawan Kenobi has been in communication with us. His mission was successful, and tonight will be his last night of employment. We expect him to return to the Temple tomorrow evening,” Mace said resignedly, waving a hand in dismissal.           

            “Sometimes, I don’t know why I bother,” Mace said to Yoda after the doors had slammed shut behind Qui-Gon.

            Yoda came to his side. “Care about him, you do, Padawan. Care about him, I do. But resolve this on his own, he must.”

            Mace nodded reluctantly. “You do realize that he is going to do something that will get him in trouble with us all over again?”

            “Realize that, I do,” Yoda said. “But necessary, it is.”

            Mace sighed. “I just hope he takes enough credits with him. Padawan Kenobi mentioned that he’s become quite the expensive favorite.”

            Qui-Gon couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Of course, he’d noticed that Obi-Wan had grown into quite the gorgeous young man. He’d noticed that frequently, so frequently that he’d had to find private places to take care of the problem that resulted from noticing. He’d certainly noticed when Obi-Wan had celebrated his coming-of-age, and it had been one of the most difficult moments of his life when he’d refused Obi-Wan’s offer to be his first…his only. Qui-Gon had refused him as gently as possible. Though the Jedi did not object to relationships between masters and padawans so long as the padawan was of age, Qui-Gon had looked at the young man and saw a boy who could not know his own mind. After that, Obi-Wan had heard nothing more of what he’d said, certainly not the promise that if he was still interested when he was knighted, Qui-Gon would be willing.

            Watching him now, Qui-Gon realized that it had been too little, too late. Obi-Wan looked like sin on two legs, bare to the waist with the lower half of his body covered by pants so tight that they looked painted on and riding so low on his hips that if Qui-Gon slipped his hand down the back he would touch…oh, Force help him. Qui-Gon knew in that moment why he had come. It was not to chew out Obi-Wan, to berate him for cheapening himself by willingly accepting such a mission. Certainly, he wanted to do that. To bemoan the fact that Qui-Gon had let everything that could have been his slip through his fingers.

            But Qui-Gon knew as he watched Obi-Wan up on the stage, dancing with the sensuality of one trained to it from the cradle, that the real reason he’d come was to take his long overdue turn with the young man the brothel called Storm on account of his blue-grey eyes.

            Still huddled under the cowl of his cloak, Qui-Gon gestured to a droid server, handed over a mass of credits, and made his selection. He received a room number. Qui-Gon resisted the temptation to look back as he made his way down a plush carpeted hall. A new young man was on stage now because Storm had just been bought…for a night, at least.

            The room was palatial. Obi-Wan Kenobi lounged on a silk-draped chair, one leg thrown over the arm, the position making his arousal abundantly obvious.

            “You couldn’t even leave me alone to do my duty, could you?” Obi-Wan asked.

            Qui-Gon let the cowling cloak fall and sat down on a sofa. “Did you really think I would? When my padawan decides to sell himself to the highest bidder for the sake of a spoiled senator and refuses to tell me, you are damn right that I won’t leave you alone!”

            Obi-Wan’s voice seethed with anger. “Do you mean when I choose to do my duty as a Jedi and serve the Republic?”

            “This is not your duty, to go and get yourself fucked by a parade of strangers!” Qui-Gon was not in control of his anger, and he knew it.

            “What concern of yours is it who I fuck? It’s not as if you’re interested!” Obi-Wan shot back. “And don’t try that you’ll wait till I’m a knight excuse again. I’m a man, not a boy, by the law of this planet and the Jedi! They don’t have a problem with it, and I decided that I was tired of waiting. So much the better if I take down a sex trafficking ring in the process…which I have successfully done and rescued forty innocent children from a life of prostitution.” The last was said with a bit of sullen pride, and Qui-Gon grudgingly nodded.

            “Congratulations on that…at least that much good came out of this.” He leaned forward, holding his padawan’s stormy eyes with his own. “So I hear you’ve been popular here. Tell me, how many people have had you? Ten? Twenty? More?”

            Obi-Wan smirked. “More…wouldn’t you like to know how many more? But you’re just going to have to live with not knowing.”

            Before Qui-Gon fully realized what he was doing, he was on his feet and across the room, leaning over Obi-Wan and reaching for their bond.

            “We’ll see about that!” Qui-Gon hissed, his practiced mind barreling through his padawan’s shields with one angry stroke. Obi-Wan whimpered, the pain like a lightsaber through his mind, before surrendering and allowing Qui-Gon to see what he wanted.

            For several minutes, there was nothing but Obi-Wan’s harsh breathing as Qui-Gon stared down at his hands. Finally, he looked up.

            “It was all mind tricks…every time was mind tricks?” Qui-Gon’s voice was soft, and he channeled gentle healing energy into his padawan, easing the pain he’d caused.

            Obi-Wan nodded, relaxing under his master’s care. “Yes, of course it was! Do you truly think so little of me…even of our Order…that I would whore myself out or that they would expect me to whore myself out?” He sighed. “I’ll wait forever for you if I have to, Master. But Force, must I?”

            Qui-Gon was silent for a moment as Obi-Wan tensed for another rejection…that didn’t come.

            “I paid a pile of credits for your time, Padawan. I’d very much like to get my money’s worth.” Qui-Gon said.

            Obi-Wan reached up and pulled his unresisting master down on the sofa beside him.

            “But what do you want, Master?” Obi-Wan was still hesitant, and Qui-Gon cursed himself for putting that hesitation in his padawan’s heart.

            “I don’t want to fuck you, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said. Before Obi-Wan could protest, Qui-Gon continued. “I want to make love.”

            Obi-Wan let out a breath he’d been holding. “You’d like to buy my services permanently then? That’s going to cost you a lot more than what you just paid.”

            Qui-Gon caught his padawan’s impish grin and smirked back. “Oh really? How much more?”

            Obi-Wan’s grin remained, but Qui-Gon felt uncertainty seep across their bond.

            “I’d say your heart would be sufficient payment.”

            Then, Obi-Wan was gasping against warm, full lips as Qui-Gon pulled him into his lap.

            “That can be arranged,” Qui-Gon said softly.

            And neither of them said anything else for a while.


End file.
